Japes (A Short Poem About #Brexit)

You all
Are some crazy motherfuckers
Playing Russian roulette with stability
As if you’re bored
And require shit to happen
Just for the japes.

Plenty here
Ain’t joining in with the fun
We be ‘fraid
For our old folks and our children
And hell yeah
For ourselves too.

But still,

What drives you crazy people?
Love of conflict, war
Inability to get on with anyone
Unless they look like what you see in the
You’ve been doing that thing with black folks
For generations
And from time to time you do it with your own
White people
Who are ever so slightly different to you
What next?
You gonna do crazy shit to the people
Who live in a different borough?
A different street?

That way lies onanism
You crazy motherfuckers.

Unless, of course
You’re just doing it for the

Strange Deliberations of the Fates

If you were to have entered that room you would certainly have been taken aback. In fact, it was much less a room, more a cavernous space. Within, there was an unfathomable number of little beings rushing around, busily engaged in various tasks. They – the beings – were odd-looking. All were naked, although the concept meant less to them as they didn’t have any private parts to hide or expose. Their skin was a pleasant grey-brown colour and their heads were small and oval (wider than they were high). A pair of attractive almond eyes – like a cat’s – were set in each head.

The frenetic activity was taking place on a dizzying variety of horizontal levels in the space. The majority of the creatures were working at floor level, but there were also others who were busy on multiple mezzanine levels. Some were even suspended in mid-air from harnesses, gliding like trapeeze artists between levels and workstations. Lights, dials and screens entirely covered the walls and desks and this equipment was the focus of the beings’ attention. The centrepiece of everything was an enormous table set on the ground floor, upon which was a miniature landscape. The model was covered in thousands (or maybe, millions or billions) of small figures, which reminded me of plastic toy soldiers. A cluster of the alien beings surrounded the table and were engaged in what seemed like heated discussion.

I couldn’t understand their burbling, high-pitched language, however I later learned what they were talking about. Apparently, it was along the lines of the following. Continue reading